![Uriel (K3)](https://forgottenlores.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/09/uriel-k3.png?w=125)
Current Date: June 18, 2059
Character: Uriel Storm-Daii
Race: Halfling – Demon / Human / Strife
Age: 34, physically about 26
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
The dream-entity that somehow had found its way into my VR setup has been amiss since that day. For the first while following that day, I jokingly told myself that I had somehow trapped it in virtual reality. It helped ease something in me, for just a little while. Mostly because I knew very well that this was unlikely. From the get-go, I’ve never actually known what this entity was.
All it has ever been, from the very beginning, was a foggy presence now and again in my dreams, never much more than that. It never harmed me, it never caused me to harm myself, and all it ever truly did was confuse me far more than anything else.
The thing to keep in mind is that it has always been that thing in my dreams. Up until it showed up in VR, dreams had been at its base and that was that. It didn’t even show up all that often, just often enough to cause issues, if you would, but that is about it, really. When it showed up that last time I ever did bother with VR, a little more than two years ago at this point, I think I might have panicked a little. Not in a flail, run around, heart going a mile a minute way, just, in my head, I guess.
So that it hasn’t come back to see me in my dreams for any reason whatsoever since then has been strange. I’m still telling myself that it’s nothing more than a sort of brain fog more than anything else. Maybe it just got bored with being in my dreams. Maybe there was something more interesting in the VR and the whole system. Maybe none of it has been real and it’s just my brain making things up for me to find some interest in my dreams. I just don’t know.
What I do know is that I should have just left it be.
I mean, it’s technically what I did, but, at the same time, not really?
I am a fairly curious person, mostly when it comes to particular things. Most of those things are old and lost languages because I just love working on deciphering every single little thing about them and I love being able to figure out the details of things. A single symbol can mean so many different things, it depends on the person, in the long run.
Anyway, don’t ask me why, I wouldn’t even be able to explain it, but just a few days ago, I went back into the system, and I loaded the archived file from my last visit into the virtual reality set I’d done. Not my first, but certainly my last and I just haven’t even thought about going back. I guess that even years down the road, I was still curious about the symbols I’d found on those ruins and my notes didn’t seem to do them any justice.
The fog wasn’t in any of the video archives. I wasn’t in any of the audio archives either. It’s as though I was talking to myself from beginning to end as it was there. I still remember it being there. I am not the type of person who will talk to myself—or answer my own questions. Or even really just argue with myself.
That unsettled me a little. I never thought to find any real means of checking if the entity was real or not. Then again, I had only ever seen it in my dreams, so checking on that front was a little harder than anything else. Our dreams aren’t recorded, not unless we’re at the clinic and wearing all of the gear. Considering how rarely it was ever in my dreams, going for recording sessions on that front would have been moot.
So that it wasn’t there in the archives for the VR unsettled me a little, but I did what I could about it: I ignored the fact and focused on what I’d been watching these files for. The symbols on the ruins.
Last night, after days of being focused on the symbols and not the fog—I’ll be honest, once I got focused on deciphering the symbols, the rest was history—it came to me in my sleep.
I was not ready to see it crop up the way it had, and I would have much preferred that it stayed away.
Especially when in its soft, ever-low, but somehow almost somewhat menacing voice—something it had never really had before—it told me that it was never going to let me give up on it. Not then, and certainly not now. I woke up with a slightly startled intake of air, I stared at nothing in the darkness of our bedroom, and I might have needed more time than I wish I had to settle back to sleep.
If I think about it at all, it was almost five when I closed my eyes properly again and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t even really midnight when I woke with a start. I have no idea what I did just lying there during those hours, I have no real memory of that time, but Gus hasn’t said anything, so I’ll let it slide for now.